


The moon still hung.

by SociallyIneptDork



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Adopted Children, Adoption, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Children, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Trauma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Good Parent Nott (Critical Role), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Fic, Not Beta Read, Parent Nott (Critical Role), Parent Yeza, Team as Family, found family trope, kid caleb, kid fjord
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 21:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18507214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SociallyIneptDork/pseuds/SociallyIneptDork
Summary: Veth and Yeza are trying to run a business, but two boys- one blue eyed boy with an accent and a voiceless half-orc- stumble into their garden with wide eyes and wounded hearts, so they make space for the two and accept that they have two sons now.But then their dinner is interrupted by a frantic knock and- oh, what is this?The Brenatto family seems like it's growing. And quickly.-AKA The Mighty Nein are kids, and they keep finding their way to the Brenatto's.Alternate meeting AU, kidfic! AU, and Found Family Trope. Canon? Who's she?





	The moon still hung.

**Author's Note:**

> Bren (Caleb) and Fjord.
> 
> Caution: Mentions of the hurt they've suffered. Nothing overly graphic.

The day was a frigid one, with the wind biting into Veth's skin as she tried to dig up some of the herbs that Yeza needed for his current project for some official that Veth didn't care too much for. Their faces all blurred together, after all. Some stocky, bushy-browed higher-classman with fine clothes and a tilt of his chin that said he thought he was more important than he was. She often excused herself when those of his type came along, and though it was a cold and merciless winter evening, she found that digging up herbs and berries to be far more preferable to sitting there in the all but silent room.

People like him- Governor this or Sir that- made Veth feel like she was drowning, sometimes.

The sound of twigs cracking and hushed words hurriedly whispered made her hands still. "Hello?" she called out, keeping a hand on the shovel as she straightened up, eyes trying to pick out anything in the trees. With careful steps, she walked over, maintaining her hold on the shovel, ready to swing it if it turned out to be some wild animal or scoundrel in her garden.

"Be quiet, Fjord," said a voice in a tone almost low enough to go unheard, but not quite. The shuffling continued on for a few seconds longer before they ceased, leaving the garden silent and Veth's heart hammering against her chest.

Briefly, she looked behind her to the door, wondering if Yeza could run fast enough to help if it they do have to fight some thug or thief in their own garden.

She braced herself, then deflated at the sight that greeted her. Instead of an armored no-gooder, a pair of young boys stared back at her with eyes blown wide in fear, both of them seated on the ground. They both jumped when they saw her, and one of them, the taller one, took on a stance of being the "shield" between her and the other boy. He stared at her, his arms outstretched in a pitiful attempt to hide the smaller one behind him.

"...Hello?" she repeated, lowering the shovel to address the boy that was just barely the same height as her. "What are you two kids doing here?"

The green-skinned boy barely breathed, still looking at her in a wide-eyed stare. He didn't speak, blinking like he was flustered, but Veth didn't understand. She waited, dropping the shovel that clanged loudly against the base of the tree.

“Fjord is... Fjord cannot speak,” the voice piped up from behind the half-orc boy, peering up at Veth with fear and sadness overflowing in his eyes. “Someone did something to his tusks. It hurts him to speak.”

Veth stared for a few seconds. The only thing she managed to say was, “oh.”

The silence stretched on, awkward and tense as the green boy stared at the ground. “What are you boys doing here, then? It’s cold and two kids shouldn’t be out here all alone. What are your names?”

She watched the smaller boy step forward, ever so slightly, still holding onto the other boy’s sleeve but not quite so desperately. “My name is Bren. I am running.”

“From who?”

“A bad man.”

That raised more questions than it answered. But there was time for that later. The door behind Veth slid open and slammed shut, steady footsteps reaching her ears.

“Veth?” came Yeza’s hesitant voice, looking at them. “Who’re you talking to?”

Veth turned around, looking at Yeza. “Honey, this is Bren. This is Fjord. They’re running.”

Yeza’s face contorted into confusion, his eyes staring at the kids as if they were puzzles he was trying to solve and the pieces had scattered all over the floor. Veth followed his line of sight, wondering what he was seeing, trying to do her own little mental analysis of the boys.

Bren’s mussed up hair. The ragged clothes covered in dirt and grime. The bruises in the shape of hands that colored the skin of his arms where the sweater didn’t cover.

Fjord’s torn trousers. The scars crisscrossing over his nose. The dried blood that caked over his lips, no longer fresh but obviously not yet healed.

“Well,” Yeza begun, wiping his hands off on his shirt. “Let’s bring them inside, then. It’ll be more comfortable in front of a fire, I bet.”

The boys followed them inside with the hesitation of a minotaur in a china shop. They trailed behind the couple with slumped shoulders and wary eyes. Their eyes took in every detail, jumping from one corner to the next as if they expected something to jump out at them.

To be fair, Veth wouldn’t have trusted two adults who had just finished a meeting with a governor in need of something for a “most humiliating rash” either. She was certain that they had both lost quite a fair couple of years from their lives from that chat alone.

“Come on, then,” Yeza said, leading them all to the kitchen. “We’ve some food. Nothing too elaborate, I’m afraid, we didn’t have much of a chance to cook today. But there’s some mashed potatoes, fried chicken, and corn if you’ll have it.”

Fjord and Bren looked at each other before they took their seats. Veth sat beside Bren, watching the two boys with curiosity and sadness.

Yeza set the table, giving the two boys plates and a cup of juice. Fjord stared at the food with his shoulders tensed like a cat preparing to jump, shooting off a helpless look at his friend.

“He cannot eat this, I don’t think,” Bren said to Yeza, voice soft and nervous. “His tusks are injured. It hurts him to speak and eat solid foods.”

A frown pulled at Yeza’s face, and he looked closer at Fjord. “That’s not good. Do you mind if I take a look, Fjord? I’m an alchemist. I might have something that can make you feel better. Not being able to speak or eat can’t be fun.”

Fjord gave him a jerky nod, his eyes still full of wariness and uncertainty. Yeza pulled up a chair to sit in front of him, taking his chin in his hands and pulling at the lip. Inside, he saw the problem- his tusks, that had just begun growing, had been subjected to some type of treatment that had left it raw and exposed the nerve.

“That doesn’t look fun to deal with,” Yeza said, sighing. “I don’t know who did this to you but you’re very strong to still be standing here. I’m glad you’re not showing signs of infection or fever.”

Bren looked up, still ignoring his plate of food in front of him. “Will he be okay?”

A child’s subtle plea, spoken desperately for Veth and Yeza to hear.

“Of course.” Yeza removed his hands from Fjord’s mouth, wiping his hands on his trousers. “I have some drops that can help ease the pain until his tusks grow in again on their own. Or I can give him a potion that will make his tusks grow back to their previous size faster.” He gave Fjord a look. “What do you think? Hold up a finger for which one you would like.”

After some thinking, Fjord held up a finger.

“Are you sure you don’t want your tusks to grow back faster?” Veth asked, looking over to meet the boy’s eyes, but Fjord only stared at his lap and shook his head.

Yeza gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Either way, I’m glad you ended up here. Come with me, I can give you the drops now so you can eat. Is your throat dry at all?”

Veth listened as Yeza asked Fjord more yes-or-no questions on their way into the basement that Yeza turned into his storage room of potions and salves that weren’t on sale or were of higher value than the things in the shop.

Veth looked over at the younger of her two charges. “Well, that’s settled. You should eat.”

Bren looked at his food, then at the door that Fjord and Yeza had gone through. “You are being very kind to us. Why?”

Veth shrugged. She didn’t know why she wanted to help the two boys out either, but the sad eyes of Bren’s and the cold silence of Fjord’s had tugged at something in her chest.

It made something in her chest say, _I’m here._

 _Things are going to be okay now,_ it had said.

“You need someone and we’re available to help.”

Bren seemed to mull that over before he took a sip of the juice, quiet. Always thinking, that one. He was young still, but Veth could see potential in his eyes, something that reminded her of Luke.

“How old are you?” she asked, and the boy blinked at her for a second before he answered.

“I am 5 years of age.”

Formal words, spoken tautly as if he’d rehearsed it numerous times.

Veth didn't comment on it. “Where are you from?”

Bren’s face contorted into something before it cleared, leaving his face blank. She wondered who'd taught him to do that. Children did not often know to hide their emotions unless they'd been trained to so. “The Zemni Fields.”

“What became of your parents?”

Bren shifted in his chair, picking at the strings of the cushion of the chair he sat with fidgeting hands. Veth watched him do so, caring little for the reprehensible cushion that Yeza had chosen out for the 'aesthetic' that matched their carpet. It was hideous. She hated it.

“They died in a fire. It’s why the Bad Man came. He was supposed to take care of me.”

 _Oh_ , Veth thought. 

“I’m sorry.”There was very little else she could think as a reply to such a thing.

Bren looked up at her, giving her a nod. “It’s okay.”

Yeza walked back into the room with Fjord, giving Veth a small smile when he entered. “I fixed him up with the drops. He’ll have to apply it every morning or night, but it should help him eat at the very least. His voice will be a bit harder and it will take time as well for his vocal muscles to work as they did, but it will all work itself out.”

Fjord took a seat at the table, picking up the spoon and carefully, hesitantly, placing it against his lip. He waited. When no burst of pain came, he opened his mouth more and let the corn enter his mouth, chewing reluctantly.

He swallowed. No pain came. He continued eating, giving Yeza a thumbs up.

Yeza leaned against the counter, crossing his arms and giving him a smile. The meal continued in comfortable near-silence. The boys ate their meals without much help, save for Bren needing a bit of help with getting the meat from the bone. He was less of a heavy eater as well, picking at his food rather than inhaling it as Fjord had done.

The night came to a soft close.

Yeza helped Fjord into the guest room, talking with him about something or another. Veth, on the other hand, assisted Bren in bathing and dressing into fresh clothes.

When both groups were finished, they put both boys to bed. Yeza gave them each a friendly hair ruffle and a smile. “Sleep well, boys.”

Veth pressed a hand to Yeza’s back, turning the lights off in the room and closing the door behind her as they walked into the hall. “They seem like good kids.”

“I can’t imagine why someone would hurt them,” said Yeza, his shoulders dropping now that they were away from the children. “Fjord’s _mouth_. I can’t even begin to explain it, Veth. It was _horrendous_.”

Veth nodded. “I know,” she breathed, remembering the wounds she’d seen on Bren’s body. “Bren has his own set of scars, both physical and mental. And there are so many _burn_ marks along his arms.”

They entered the room, situating themselves into bed though neither could slept. Veth looked over at Yeza, who stared idly at the ceiling.

“What are we going to do about them?” she asked softly. “We can’t just turn them away.”

In the dark, Veth felt a cold hand wrap around hers. “We’ll take care of them.”

Veth didn’t say, _are you sure we want to go through this again?_

Nor did she say, _do you not think it is too soon?_

Instead, she exhaled and squeezed his hand. “Okay,” said she, staring up at the ceiling above them.

Life was a funny thing. Sometimes, you go to your garden and prepare for an attack from a thug and instead you end up with two boys to take care of.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Welp. That's chapter one, brought to you by your local trash goblin.
> 
> Not beta read. We die like men.


End file.
